Deprecation and Desire
by Darkest Desire
Summary: At a celebration for Aragorn and Arwen’s marriage, Faramir finds himself consuming a bit too much wine and realizing desires which he has never been able to admit to himself without the inhibition lessening effects of alcohol. SLASH FaramirLegolas.


Summary: At a celebration for Aragorn and Arwen's marriage, Faramir finds himself consuming a bit too much wine and realizing desires which he has never been able to admit to himself without the inhibition lessening effects of alcohol. SLASH Faramir/Legolas.

Disclaimer: I obviously do not own The Lord of the Rings or any of the characters from it. Is it really necessary for me to it down in writing?

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CHAPTER ONE: WINE AND WISHFUL THINKING

(A/N: This chapter is from Faramir's POV.)

The wedding was a truly beautiful affair; King Elesser and his Lady Arwen glowed with their love for each other. It was a refreshing sight to see a royal marriage based on such an emotion rather than obligation or a sense of duty. I hope that I will someday find myself in such a relationship, though my orientation in that particular aspect leads me to believe otherwise.

A dejected sigh escapes my lips, as I take another large sip of the sweet, rich flavored wine brought out for this most joyous of occasions. I let my gaze drift lazily about the room as I lean casually against one of the walls in the large main hall, taking in the wonderful sight of faces that shine with true happiness for the first time in too long, as the guests mingle and grace the floor with a lively dance.

A flurry of gold catches my eye as I watch the dancers in a bit of a daze—caused, no doubt, by the many glasses of wine I have thus far consumed—and find myself enchanted by the fleet, lissome way in which the blonde-haired enigma dances both elegantly and enthusiastically across the floor, standing out amongst all the others.

It is not until the song ends, and the dancers began to clear the floor to take a brief respite from their strenuous activity, that I am able to get a clear view of the creature I have been watching from afar and am able to unravel the mystery behind their identity. As I take in the merry blue eyes and smiling visage I am somewhat shocked to find that it is none other than Prince Legolas of the Woodland Realm which I have had my eye on for these past few minutes.

He is a fair vision to behold and, as any other, I have always admired the aesthetic beauty which he seems to embody. But never before have I thought of him in any manner other than platonic, though I cannot say the same about now.

Perhaps I am too inebriated to think clearly, which is more likely than not, or maybe I am merely intoxicated enough to have my inhibitions lowered to the point where I care not whether I admit to being attracted to the fay prince which I have been intrigued by since first I saw him.

What would it be like to run my fingers through his silky, golden, strands of hair? How would his pale pink lips feel beneath my own, locked in a passionate kiss? How would his shapely, muscular thighs feel wrapped around—

I cut myself off before my alcohol-induced fantasy could get to the point of indecency. Although no one could ever know my thoughts—except, perhaps, Lady Galadriel of the Golden Wood from what I had heard—I doubted that I would ever be ably to face Legolas again without a sense of guilt or a crimson stain on my cheeks should I let my mind continue down its current path of imaginary indulgence.

Letting out a self-deprecating sigh caused by the state in which I found myself after my brief phantasia, I took another lengthy draught out of the pewter goblet that had kept me company throughout the night. My cup was once again empty now, but seeing as how I wished not to make a fool of myself on this of all nights I decided that it was time to set the chalice down and either retire to my chambers or sit down near the hearth where others had gathered to converse and a select few to sing soft, carefree melodies of a peaceful nature.

I set my empty goblet on an empty serving tray that one of the many servants of the white citadel carried as I passed by, on course to the brightly lit fire that warmed the merry hall. The alcohol seemed to have taken its toll on my sense of balance and I found myself hard pressed to walk steadily forward in a straight line without stumbling about like a drunken fool, which I probably was by this point.

It was a tedious task to cross that great width of the large chamber in my current state and consumed the entirety of my concentration. It was for that reason—and that reason alone, or so I would like to believe—that I found myself inadvertently bumping into the subject of my earlier embarrassment.

I could feel my cheeks become heated as the blonde haired being before me turned with a slight start to glance at the clumsy clod which had intruded upon his space. Despite all of my lessons in etiquette, I found myself at a loss as his inquisitive blue eyes met my own horrified green ones.

It took me a moment, but I managed to gain enough presence of mind to mumble a hasty apology consisting of, "Excuse me, Prince Legolas," before dashing as quickly as I could in the opposite direction without seeming as if I was running away from him, which I most assuredly was, though I would never admit such a thing aloud.

Forgetting my earlier notion of making my way to the hearth and joining in more of the festivities I hurriedly made my way to the nearest exit and out into the familiar halls of the house in which I had passed my entire life thus far. I quickly found my way to my room, even in my current state, of which I was immensely relieved. The last thing I needed at this moment was to be found wandering aimlessly about the halls of my own home lost in a drunken stupor.

Taking the elaborate silver key that would unlock the door to my chambers from the inner pocket of my formal azure robes, I quickly fitted it into the lock and undid the latch, pushing my way inside. As I closed and locked the thick, wooden door behind me, I leaned back heavily upon it and let my eyes close in a sign of weary defeat.

Although I had alerted no other, to my knowledge, of my humiliating behavior, I couldn't help but feel as if I had somehow acted in a way which would have me lowering my eyes in shame for the next few days, especially in the elven Prince's presence. But there was nothing that I could do about it now, except go to bed and hope that the alcohol would block out all memory of my actions and thoughts this night and that I would awaken without the reminder of this incidence in the form of a detestable hangover.

TO BE CONTINUED…

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AUTHOR'S NOTES: I just got the sudden urge to write and, seeing as how I have always enjoyed the pairing of Legolas and Faramir, I decided that I should write a fic with it in it. Anyways, I hope you have enjoyed the first chapter and hope you will stay tuned for the next one (whenever it comes out). ;) 


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